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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019259">A Million Questions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilotInTheStars/pseuds/lockwoodstie'>lockwoodstie (PilotInTheStars)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lockwood &amp; Co. - Jonathan Stroud</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Background Character Death, Childhood, Foreshadowing, Gen, Ghosts, References to the zeek fic cause i can, The problem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:54:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilotInTheStars/pseuds/lockwoodstie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How Celia and Donald were first introduced to the Problem.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Celia Lockwood &amp; Original Characters, Donald Lockwood &amp; Original Characters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Celia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mads finally gets back on the Celia and Donald train. </p><p>This is an idea I've been toying with for a couple months, and I'm excited to finally write it!! I hope you enjoy. </p><p>Thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharknana29/pseuds/Sharknana29">Sharknana29</a> for beta-ing this for me. &lt;33333</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maria and Celia walked every morning to school. Maria lived a few doors down and would walk to where Celia was standing outside her grandmother’s house, school books in hand. And then they were off. </p>
<p>Maria was looking over notes for some class as they walked along the street. Celia put her hands in the pockets of her coat and kept walking, staring at the late winter sky. Down the street and around the corner they went. </p>
<p>Celia glanced around at all of the houses on the street, observing all of them in their morning stillness. People were walking to work, or getting into their automobiles to go somewhere for the day. Everything was the same- except for one place. </p>
<p>There was a commotion near a house, more officials than Celia had ever seen in one place in their town. Celia froze, staring at all of the professionals standing around the house. </p>
<p>“Maria?”</p>
<p>“Hm?” Celia’s friend didn’t look up from her notes.</p>
<p>“What’s going on over there?” Maria finally looked up, and her eyes widened. </p>
<p>“I-I’m not sure.” She quickly opened her bag and shoved the paper inside. “Isn’t that where Ms. Philipps lives?”</p>
<p>“I think.”</p>
<p>Maria’s face blanched. “Oh God…” She grabbed Celia’s hand and they walked off, Celia trying to turn and see what happened.</p>
<p>“Wait! WAIT! Maria, I’m trying to see what’s going on.”</p>
<p>Maria turned and met her eye, an icy look in her eye. “You don’t want to see what’s going on.” Maria’s grip on Celia’s hand didn’t loosen in the slightest, and she practically dragged her to school that morning.</p><hr/>
<p>The whole situation had been cleaned up by the time Maria and Celia walked home from school.</p>
<p>“But what happened there? I can’t see it anymore anyway, so you might as well tell me.”</p>
<p>Maria dodged the question. “I don’t know. Something my mum told me about when she goes on trips to the city.”</p>
<p>“What’s going on in London?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what they call it.” Maria frowned, and took Celia’s hand and they ran across the street to Maria’s home. Hopefully her grandmother wouldn’t mind that she was home just a little bit late- especially if she was only a little bit late.</p>
<p>Maria opened the door and led her inside, walking to their dining room and finding a newspaper sitting on a table. “My father’s kept this around for a couple days.” She picked it up and handed it to Celia, and Celia’s eyes flitted across the page at rapid-fire speed as she read the article on the front of the page.</p>
<p>“My parents were talking about it,” Maria muttered, looking through her school bag. “Reported ghosts, strange deaths. All peculiar. When…” Maria looked off, biting her lip. “My mum says she met someone who almost died. But he was treated for it.”</p>
<p>“Did that happen to Ms. Phillips?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Maria finished. She snatched the newspaper from Celia’s hands and led her to the door.</p>
<p>“Your grandmother probably is waiting. See you tomorrow.”</p>
<p>That put Celia in a grumpy mood. She hadn’t even been gone for that long, her grandmother could wait a little longer.</p>
<p>Celia stepped out onto the street. “Good afternoon, then.”</p><hr/>
<p>Celia had dressed in her nightgown and washed her face for the night. It was well past her bedtime, and she needed to go to bed, but she just had no interest in that tonight. How could she when there were things to think about?</p>
<p>She curled up in the bay window seat at the staircase landing, looking out at the dark yard and everything it contained. The moon shone down on it all, illuminating the world in a haunting glow.</p>
<p>“Celia?” Her grandmother began. “What are you doing awake?”</p>
<p>Celia just shrugged. “I just don’t want to sleep.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>Celia got right to the heart of the matter. “What’s going on in London?”</p>
<p>Her grandmother’s eyes met her own. “What do you mean, dear?”</p>
<p>“Well… Maria showed me a newspaper today her mum brought back from London. About everything that’s going on there.”</p>
<p>Her grandmother frowned. “What about what’s going on there?”</p>
<p>Celia looked away, wondering if she should tell her grandmother. “Maria and I passed Ms. Philipps today. What happened?”</p>
<p>Celia didn’t think she had ever seen her grandmother so surprised. “I just heard about that when I went to town… I didn’t know that you and Maria had seen it.”</p>
<p>There was silence, and Celia worried she would be shuffled to bed with no answers. She disliked whenever people did that to all of her questions.</p>
<p>“Something did happen to Ms. Phillips, unfortunately.”</p>
<p>Celia frowned. “What?”</p>
<p>“It’s hard to explain. But she’s passed on now.”</p>
<p>The world almost seemed to fall apart for a moment. “But what happened?” Celia said, truly and honestly upset. Was that why Maria hadn’t let her look?</p>
<p>“We don’t know yet, Celia.” It was quiet again. “And I’m sorry I don’t have answers, truly.”</p>
<p>“Maria said that it has something to do with what’s happening in London.”</p>
<p>Her grandmother sighed. “That I’ll have to explain another night, Celia.” She was indeed shuffled to bed, after a consoling hug from her grandmother, and Celia was left to fall asleep all on her own, pondering all of her questions.</p>
<p>She would ask Maria for the newspaper again, and sneak it home in her bag and read the whole thing over and over again. She’d attend Ms. Philipp’s funeral. Ghost touch was what someone had called it afterwards. That’s what Maria had seen, and what she refused to let Celia see.</p>
<p>Celia would try and find any information she could. She’d ask Maria’s mother when she went to London, and all the articles that came into town. Her questions never ceased.</p>
<p>Maria never wanted to talk about it again after the week of Ms. Philipps’ death. She didn’t want to recall that day, or talk about what was going on in London at all.</p>
<p>“It’s horrible, the whole thing is horrible,” Maria would snap one day. “I don’t get why you would be interested in anything about the Problem, or whatever it’s called, Celia.”</p>
<p>Celia most certainly couldn’t live like that, avoiding it all. She wanted answers, and they most certainly had to be somewhere.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading. The second chapter should be up soon...</p>
<p>&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Donald</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for being patient as I wrote this chapter!! I hope you enjoy. </p>
<p>Thank you so again to Sharknana29 for beta-ing!! You're the best. &lt;3</p>
<p>&lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were figures standing outside the Lockwoods’ home. He could see them standing out on the street, white and gleaming and watching, always. He wondered who they were, standing there all alone on the street.</p>
<p>Patrick ignored him, claimed that they weren’t there- Donald always insisted that they were most certainly there. His older brother retorted he needed a stronger prescription for his glasses. </p>
<p>Donald finally went to his mother and told her about what he had been seeing for so long, practically dragging her to the window. “Look! Look! They’re there.”</p>
<p>He glanced out, looking at those pale figures, and turned back to his mother, staring blankly out the window.</p>
<p>“Don’t you see them?”</p>
<p>His mother bent down and looked long and  hard. “I don’t see anything, Donald. Perhaps it was just the neighbours. They’re gone now.”</p>
<p>Donald frowned. “They haven’t gone anywhere- they’re still there.” He looked out again. There were two figures standing near the yard, unmoving and watching.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing there, Donald. Nothing to be worried about.” His mother gave him a tired, sympathetic smile. “I think it’s time for bed, dear.”</p>
<p>Patrick had a self-righteous smile from where he stood in the corner of the room. Donald couldn’t see it- but he just knew. But he couldn’t retort back now to his older brother. That would be a surefire way to get into even more trouble.</p>
<p>Donald went up, changed into his pajamas, and brushed his teeth and walked to his and Patrick’s room, stomping around in frustration.</p>
<p>He went and found his book among his other school things and crawled into bed, pulling up the covers in defiance. He opened the book and began to read. His eyes passed over the words quickly, but the words didn’t make much sense in his mind.</p><p>After an indiscernible amount of time, Patrick opened the door to their room and walked in. He looked around and walked over to the curtains that had been shut earlier and peeked through them.</p>
<p>“Close the curtains,” Donald said, turning a page.</p>
<p>“Are they still there?” Patrick asked solemnly.</p>
<p>“Why do you care? You say they aren’t there.”</p>
<p>“I just want to know.”</p>
<p>Donald got out of bed and walked to stand next to him. He opened the curtains more fully. He looked down from his bedroom and out onto the street. The figures were still there, almost shimmering in the night.</p>
<p>“They’re still here,” Donald said. “You can see them, can’t you?” How could anyone not see them, when they were so obviously there?</p>
<p>Patrick nudged his little brother over so he could look out better. “Mm, something’s there, but it’s not ghosts or whatever you’re calling it. I can’t tell what it is though.” He walked away to his bed on the other side of the bedroom and Donald opened the curtains one last time.</p>
<p>The figures looked back up at him ominously. He shuddered and quickly closed the curtains.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It wouldn’t be until a year and a half later when he met another boy in his class who saw the same things as him.</p>
<p>“Mum’s talked about putting me in night watch,” he said before school one day, “or whatever they’re putting in the city now.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Donald asked.</p>
<p>The boy had shrugged. “If it puts money on the table, can’t be that bad. We need it.”</p>
<p>Donald debated asking the question all day and went home that day from school to ask his mother if he could join the night watch.</p>
<p>His mother froze while doing her embroidery, the hand that had previously been stitching was now stuck in the air mid-motion and almost seemed to shake. </p>
<p>“Why would you ever want to do such a thing?” Her words were more shocked and cold than he had ever heard before- rather uncharacteristic for his mother.</p>
<p>“I don’t know- I can see ghosts, you know, like all the papers are saying.”</p>
<p>“And where did you get such an idea?”</p>
<p>“Well, there’s a boy named Thomas in my class, and he mentioned that his mum was planning on having him join the night watch.”</p>
<p>Donald’s mother set down her embroidery and stood up from her chair.</p>
<p>“No matter what happens, you are under no circumstances joining the night watch. I don’t want to hear a question like that again.” She walked to the kitchen and left Patrick and Donald sitting together. </p><p>Patrick’s eye had grown wide during the now-ended conversation, and he went to busy himself with his schoolwork.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with what I said?”</p>
<p>“What isn’t?” Patrick said. “I don’t know what the hell’s got in your head- who would want to join the night watch? Going out at night, keeping watch for ghosts that could sneak up behind you and wrap their hands around your throat? I’ve read the newspaper adverts. You don’t want anything to do with it.”</p>
<p>Donald’s cheeks burned and he froze. Had what he said been so wrong? There was obviously something he wasn’t getting. He walked to their room silently and sat on the edge of his bed, the atmosphere of everything feeling much, much different.</p>
<p>Donald would understand the weight of his question much, much later, and if you were to ask him when he was a young man about the incident, he felt a fresh dose of shame every time he remembered it. He didn’t share that story much, and there was only one other person in his life, years after, that he ever told that story to.</p>
<p>But despite Donald’s embarrassment, it didn’t stop the young boy from going to the library and finding any book about ghosts that he could find.</p>
<p>He took his stack of books home, hiding them under the bed and reading them at night as fast as he could. Patrick must have noticed them at some point, but he kept his mouth shut about it.</p>
<p>Their mother found it when she was cleaning the house. The books had mysteriously found themselves from their previous spot under Donald’s bed to his nightstand. A word was never said to him. So he kept on reading.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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